CONFESSION ZERO

© 2015 Mark Richard Prime, I am.

If I'm not mistaken, "God's people" are all of the living and breathing people on the (H)eartH, Life, to which we are not alone. What we do to the least of them, and to life, we do to God. War, genocide, rape, thievery, oppression, starvation, slavery, destruction, pollution, air, water and soil, animal, plant, tree, mountain, valley and plain, 100%. The bible may not speak of the collective... and this should give one pause. Peace & Love © 2014 Mark Richard Prime

( Milgram´s Studies on Human Obedience ) The world's problem is not its myriad of governments, it is the fact that its myriad of citizens have obeyed their respective governments and leaders of every stripe, secular, spiritual, religious, and favored and followed those that have no interest in being stewards of the eartH or in coming to the aid of their human family. The problem is we have bent over backwards to accommodate the beast of consumption, to mine and drill and destroy the water supply, and in general, poison our home, as if it were not the only one we have. The problem is not that we haven’t been obedient; the problem is that we have not been disobedient! Until we realize, and admit, that we, the people of the eartH, are to blame for our problems, we cannot possibly begin to rise up and change course. Take responsibility! Rise up! Rise up and be heard! Rise up and save the eartH from humankind's virulent self-indulgence! Rise up before the eartH brings our...

( Warriors of the Rainbow, Eyes of Fire ) Eyes of Fire weeps of our pale use. She yearns for the forest and soil to converse, urging that our actions be those of Love, not those of war or destruction of the (H)eartH. Pray… © 2012 by mark richard prime

Our breath is atrocious, crowding the air, our teeth, fanged relics slanted, bent of intolerance and proud minds fetching the face of wretchedness with leaching maws of foaming hatred. We must find our contempt unmasked, find our repugnant and false-hearted wars most contemptible as we use our depraved dribble to spackle the holes we’ve put in love. Tell me, oh mighty war, that they did not suffer? Tell me, oh potent combat, that they didn't needlessly die for our mantle and plot? Oh reckless courage, collateral death, are we set to fail love? Humankind's blind grasp of truth is no more than a churning obituary held up to fading mirror... © 2012 by mark richard prime

I’m appalled by all this shrill lightning, the stench of something reckless like an oven broiling millions whose only sin was their name. And then the torture and wars with their odor of deceit standing tall like a knife stuck in the back of love. Do we not understand ourselves enough to see it? We know the bat finds its prey, sensing its victims echo as it flutters in the shadow of self... and, you and I, what do we feel? © 2012 by mark richard prime

Dear preacher, brother and sister, you needn't have tested me, I'm aware. I'm being guided along the path of love by spirits, so it only appeared as if I didn't know you directed your words to me. Thank you. Peace, love and goodness to you, yours and the world. All the words written since humankind became judge, jury and executioner, amount to war and hate and mistrust and murder, destruction and rape. The prideful manner in which your kind hold Gods, the Gods written by humankind, must strive to a higher standard and rise to full love! Yes. There is an urgency in my voice, I will admit, but the scarves of love blow in the wind my friends, we’re not rising anywhere, after the way we’ve left the earth. Bow upon your knees, Mark Richard Prime, she awaits your loyalty, yet still smiles upon you that you might see, might lift your eyes to heavenly earth. It is not love’s plan to destroy the earth. Love’s about to deliver a message that we can’t deny. Please, for th...

Who is that man standing with love. It is you. And you, and you stand beside love and you and you. They do battle within me! They raise their tears in memory of humankind. I cannot shake their beauty, I cannot hold them near enough for fright of the least in me, to the shame of love. (What’s that you sing now brother? A song for your belief or a song that’s been sung so many times in the books of man. Where is yours? Where is your courage to speak up, to love the earth, the mother, the heart of love and all and everything? ...Leave it be, my child…) But love, I don’t understand why the burden be as if its dreamt, and not lived. Happening and imagined, evident and foggy shores ahead to me if I will not and more… Wait- where was I? (A feint whisper calling across your sorrow like the strings sending forth its quiver.) No. That is not where I was, I was with you. (You are merely waiting on me to know who you are.) And I, waiting to see who you might co...

If humankind holds up their end of the bargain, Heaven will be shown to them Do we really want to take a chance on our numbness to the truth delivering us the exactness of who we’ve become? Murderous beasts without regard to our beholden, thankless wretches, become murderers of Life’s Mother, eartH. If we do not reverse our course, she’ll have no recourse, but to bring her wrath with immense sorrow and lay all down …to sleep. Don’t you see? If humankind holds up their end of the bargain, Heaven will be shown to them… © 2012 by mark prime

Oh Dear Sebastian, play me a heavenly tune with Yo Yo Ma on your strings, with water flowing clear, trees standing for justice, mountains there to remind us of how small we are… nearing insignificance. And we think we‘ve the nerve to speak for Love? What on eartH made us think such a thing? Money. Greed. Rage. Loathing. Destruction of life. Sightless all, their eyes need open… Let us rise up and speak! Speak for Love’s sake! Speak what we will of our belief, but it must come after we serve the kingdom of Love. If we realize where we are, my brothers and sisters, we can have it evermore… © 2011 by mark prime

You’re strumming at my Heart. You’re filling me with Love on the strings of your walk to peace, to Love’s most precious truth, the Heart(H) of Love. The cello of full Love, the song of hope, the words of such a profound meaning that we are knelt in sorrow before Love. Oh! Raise up your spirits! Do not wait for a sign, a prophecy to raise its music ahead of our terror. The truth isn’t convenient to humankind’s imaginings, Love isn’t as profitable as fear. We with our wars! For what? No! Why war? Why do you poison the water that was granted by Love? Why do you plague Love with fear? Fear is humankind’s greatest flaw. The mind settles for bigotry over reason, for fear before Love and for  Love over the Heart(H) of Love… Echo… © 2011 by mark prime

It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. The deed falls squarely on my shoulders, it is mine to bear, mine to choose, mine to be, mine. The self is important my friends. It is who we are! A single entity of the whole! Brothers and sisters, please understand that this is my belief. It isn’t science, it’s a journey. Who I am chose this journey knowing the possibilities, but what I shouldn‘t have ever imagined is that I would be fearfully timid. No longer. We’ve cleaved ourselves in half and do battle both our evil and our good. But how can this be? Asked the man. We fight the evil that’s attacking our good! How dare you! No! How dare you try and imagine what it is that we are here for and indoctrinate through fear? Shred every instance of evil from your books and leave goodness, use the Love, for that is all Love smiles on. Evil is not of Love. It is not Creation’s way. It is humankind that fears. It is humankind that imagines they are loving while creating their own death mechanism, L...

To each of you, I offer my hand. To each of you, I offer this vow- I will love you as equals, to each of you, a brother, a sister, to me, a family. I’m humbled by you. I’m a mere servant to the deadened flesh and pure worship of the soul, the spirit. To each of you, I give my love that it might, from you, begin to touch the world. To each of you, Love. I offer the fullness of my affection for my brothers and sisters all. To each of you, I offer. Let us come nearer the visage. Let us ride upon it and startle the horses- The crinkled face of death rears its tiredness like one might recall the death of a child. There is no death in this child. I did away with death. I climbed the vine to freedom. There is no death in this child. Mortality’s face sags with the tiredness that accompanies the agony of so many children. © 2011 by mark prime

On the twelfth day of November, the people heard the call, Love came swift upon the wind, wagging with the fall. An equine of air galloped out and made them smile and dance. Bow at her majesty, at your bravery, your “this time’s” last chance. The day rose with a quiet, a great hush upon the ground, whispering Love, the air and eagles searching for a sound. Morning called down its gleam with brushstrokes before unseen, the sun stood fearless, the sky as cushion, Love and rage between. Brighten now flower, brighten full and bloomed. Brighten water, flow your sweet nectar and paint a scene, humanity, not slaughter. Bring your joy, tote your love, and haul in your fullness of affection, your glee, your laughter, and your peace, to move in all directions. Open your singular mind and alert your most ready heart, Rise up, stand up, rock the walls to freedom’s new start! Rise up, sit up, shake the walls to freedom’s new start! Rise up, get up, sway the walls to freedom’s...

( Peace Revolution Podcast  -|- Trickle-Down Poverty ) Trickle-down tyranny trumps the sweet and natural hum, the wind and howl, the air and breath slain by boom, rattle and thump! Come and sit beneath the stars and heed the whisper of all, bring your power in numbers to a fresh and vital call. No more can we linger, no more can we remain, while they hone the sword of tyranny and plunge it through our veins! No more can we hold our speech, no more can we wait for death to rear its head from waste surging hard beneath! Come and sit under the stars and talk of things that matter, come camp with your brethren and bravely hold back the clatter. The landscape, it is shifting, turning red and orange, calling on us to embrace her loving wind and begin to be the change. If we fail her now, we’ll lower our Love to her crypt to never rise again, she’ll breathe away our memory and once more begin. Come! Sit beneath the stars and watch the shadows glance, move with the wind...

( Wrinkle2 ) It is time to believe in something. It is time to speak peace instead of the loudness of bombs. It is time to feed the hungry with our spleens filled with hope. It is time to bring nourishment to this, our deadened worship. It is time to laugh while we’ve reason to be overflowing with joy. It is time to cry while we’re flooded with a self-inflicted sorrow. It is time… © 2011 by mark prime

I entered the church with head held high. I smiled and thought of what I’d become when my final curtain had fallen. Fill the glasses with wine, smile the kindest of kind, and find yourself right where you never imagined you’d arrive. There you Love the journey, knowing that, in the end, you’ll bend in the night and dream of your escape from Love. © 2011 by mark prime

( Indira Gandhi Tulip Garden - Heaven on eartH ) Where I am is all I can know, all I should know and all I need know. Who I am comes along with what I am to where I am. I must remember, recall my kinship before the act concludes. My dreams are the gauge to my knowing and my waking dreams deliver their sweet reverie to this reception with joy. And to my amazement truth has always been waiting beneath my feet for me to sense her Love, for me to awaken to my great fortune. Awake! It is time to come together as one and occupy heaven with heart-signs that read Love, hands that hold her dear like I would hold the precious children, arms that reach out like machines of affection and legs in urgent motion toward her care. Where did I imagine I was? Where do I imagine I am? Who did I imagine myself to be? Who do I imagine myself to be? What did I imagine I was here for, thievery, rape and war? What did I imagine I was here for? Oh! The gravest fault lies in my lack of a lovi...

The sun remained still, it was I who crafted a path for spirit to flow outward, life to flow inward, remain, and hold fast her delicious concoction of dream. Why have I taken up the dream and soured its indelible wish? Who has given me permission to crash my fetid thoughts into Heaven? What must I imagine it is for me to set her Love free that she might dance joyfully beneath the breathing sun? When will my alarms finally awaken my child and send it out in search of my better self? Tomorrow? Tomorrow’s tomorrow? Tomorrow’s broken line of tomorrow’s, with my hands outstretched begging for another chance at tomorrow? The line is bereft with my soiled smiles that haven’t given their joy over to themselves, I still hold the documentation of my enslavement, the shackles that cut into the skin of my hope are like steady reminders to rise with the sun and do the work of the thankless Man, capital “M” man, not the idleness of the diminutive, small “m” man. No. The courage fou...

(Artwork by Abel Tomlinson ) When the embers began to glow I joined in, motionless, I danced with another, yet it was the spirit's collective dreams that brought me to the one. I didn’t choose the path that carried me here today, I couldn’t, I had no idea I’d show up to this ballet. I just moved with the current of one, the spirit’s affections, their hope, and with diverse belief, the where, of where I was destined, was not in my control. I didn't try to steer the ship, there was no okay from me to go, the opposite of being rudderless, because it’s precisely how this beautiful world flows. Love, won’t you please take my hand, a peaceful hand which needn't extend from me alone? My hands and arms are clasped, ready to dance this quest that is shaped from hope? Yes! Hope is alive and well on these streets today! Oh! Dance dear spirit! Dance! This moment must go on forever. I might stumble, but I shouldn’t fail this, my chance! Freedom’s calling out to...